


Hazard

by wastelandlouis



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Larry - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chef Louis Tomlinson, Gay, Gay Harry Styles, Gay Louis Tomlinson, Homophobic Language, M/M, No Smut, Rich Harry Styles, Strangers to Lovers, country club idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:28:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26607502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wastelandlouis/pseuds/wastelandlouis
Summary: hazard: an area on a golf course which provides a difficult obstacle (man made or natural)  in regards to the players potential score"Could we ever be enough?""Baby, we could be enough."
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 1





	1. one

“Fore!” the curly-headed boy called out after he swung the metallic club in his hands down to the ball. He struck the golf ball from the tee sending it obnoxiously high in the air, watching as it curved from his intended direction. The small white ball veered off mid-air before thumping onto the soft grass a few times, like a skipping stone strewn across a lake. It bounced once, twice, three times before it rolled teasingly slow over the lip of a sand bunker. 

The blond boy he had been playing with erupted in a fit of laughter as his curly-headed friend fumbled his shot. He threw his head back in joy as he huffed in annoyance, rolling his eyes and stomping away from the tee. He was flustered as he shoved his club back into his bag, glaring at his caddy who was trying to hide the smile on his face. 

“That was an amazing shot, Harry. Truly.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice, causing Harry to furrow his eyebrows in irritation, glaring at his so-called best mate.

“Oh fuck off, Niall,” he sneered, his abundance of competitiveness leaking through his usual laid back persona.

Niall stopped giggling and turned to Harry, a mock expression of hurt plastered on his face. He dramatically brought his hand to his heart while pouting his lip. “You really hurt my feelings, Harry. I don’t know if I can even continue this game, let alone this friendship.”

Harry scoffed at his best mate, avoiding eye contact in order to contain the smile that threatened to break free. “Let’s see you try and beat me at tennis. We’ll see who’s laughing then.”

“Harry,” Niall sighed, shaking his head with a small smile, “We all know I am equally as talented with tennis as I am golf.”

Harry let out a singular sharp “HA!” throwing his head back to match the dramatics of their fake argument. “Niall you absolutely suck at playing tennis.” 

“No I don’t!” he rebuked, his ego taking a blow at the diss. 

“No I dOn’t,” Harry mocked, poking fun at his mate’s accent as if he were a child. 

“Really? What are we? Five?” Niall joked, pulling his club from his bag and walking up to the tee. He placed his ball down before he shuffled his feet into the proper position and looked back at Harry. “Let me show you how it’s supposed to be done,” he smirked while bringing his arms up before he thwacked the hard rubber ball, sending it more than halfway across the course. The ball landed roughly onto the grass and rolled a few yards before stopping, staying on the fairway unlike Harry’s.

“You’re a proper showoff,” Harry scoffed and climbed into the golf cart. Niall chuckled and shoved his club into his own bag before he hopped onto the back of the cart, waiting for the caddy to drive them over to the sandpit where Harry lost his ball.

The two boys finished their half-game, calling it quits after the ninth hole, and rode back silently to the country club’s entrance. Harry was bitter about his lack of quality performance and Niall felt on edge around Harry in this state. If he made one wrong comment, Harry would snap at him, and he wasn’t really in the mood to deal with one of Harry’s iconically dramatic temper tantrums. One of the caddies pulled into an open spot for the golf cart and all four of them jumped out. The two employees handed Niall and Harry their golf bags and pulled out the score sheet. 

“Okay so out of the nine holes played, Niall hit 55 out of 53 and Harry hit 61,” One of the caddies concluded, reading off of the sheet and handing it to Harry. 

“I honestly hate playing with you,” Harry sighed, running his hand through his untamable curls while he crumpled up the paper in his free hand. A thin sheen of sweat coated the two boys’ foreheads and they both reached for the towels hanging off of their bags to wipe it away. 

“I love playing with you, Haz,” Niall smiled, “I always get to win.”

“Once again, Ni, fuck off.” He flipped his friend off, sticking his tongue out as he did so. 

“Oh don’t be such a sore lo-” 

“Harry,” a deep voice bellowed and cut off Niall’s comeback. Harry looked around and saw his father, Des, approaching them with a look of disapproval etched into his features. It wasn’t something Harry hadn’t seen before, if anything, it was what he saw the most from his father. 

Once he was within earshot and could avoid unnecessary attention, Des spoke again, “How many times do I have to remind you that you cannot go around acting like a miscreant whenever we are at the club?” he grit out in a low voice, a thick vein appearing on his forehead as he scolded his son. “I know I’ve told you time and time again that I have a reputation to uphold here, and if you cannot follow my simple rules you will not come back here.”

“Yes, father. I apologize for my impolite behavior,” Harry replied in a monotone voice, avoiding eye contact with Niall out of embarrassment for the interaction he was forced to witness between the two Styles. 

“I am tired of your apologies. I need you to act on your words, not spew out more of them. Am I understood?” Des cautioned, and Harry looked at him while clenching his jaw. 

“Yes, father. I understand.”

Des huffed and walked away, semi-satisfied with his son’s answer. Harry glared at the back of his head as he retreated, wishing he was free to act as he pleased, without having to look over his shoulder for his overbearing, dickhead of a father. Niall threw one of his arms over Harry’s shoulders and squeezed tight, letting his friend know he understood. 

“What a cunt, huh?” Niall joked, trying to bring his best friend back, and rid himself of the pre-programmed perfect Harry that his father expected. 

“Yeah,” Harry breathed out, his playful mood soiled by a few moments spent with his fervent father. 

-

“Lads I need you to hurry up!” Louis shouted frantically into the kitchen, watching as the chefs and waiters under his management lagged. 

He couldn’t do anything other than wait for them to finish preparing the meals for the members of the country club, but he felt the stress of not serving top tier dinners as quickly as possible eat at his sanity. Even though Louis’ job was more on the stressful side of career choices, he honestly enjoyed it. He liked to be the boss, and more importantly, he felt like he thrived working under pressure. There was something about the adrenaline rush that stemmed from the chaos of managing a kitchen that drew him in.

His heart rate slowed a few beats as he saw the final plate get dressed up and the eager hands of a young waitress placed it onto a serving tray. She swiftly lifted it from the metallic counter in the kitchen and rushed towards the door to serve it to her impatient table. Although the food took no more than a half an hour to prepare, the type of crowd a place like this attracted, needed to be as efficient as possible. These customers were more than wealthy, money overflowed from their pockets and trust funds like waterfalls, and with that lifestyle came a sense of entitlement to anything and everything under the sun. And even though they may tip well, because they don’t need to stress over a meal that totals a couple of hundred dollars, they were still uptight and inconsiderate. 

Louis pushed open the kitchen door just enough to peak into the packed dining room. His eyes scanned the room diligently, impressed with the way the waiters and waitresses under his authority moved briskly, weaving in and out of the rows of tables. He exited the kitchen, momentarily relieved now that the rush was at its peek and there had been no incidents. Now that everyone was caught up, and every order that was made was finally served, he decided to step out back for a quick smoke. 

As Louis was walking towards the back exit, he fumbled around in his pocket grabbing his pack of cigarettes. Not paying attention to where he was going, too focused on searching for his lighter as well, he felt himself colliding into another body.  
“Oops,” a deep, raspy voice said and Louis looked up to apologize to the stranger. He glanced up, blue eyes meeting green, and suddenly forgot what he was supposed to say. 

Distracted by the man before him, Louis let out a breathless, “Hi.” Louis immediately felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment, cursing in his head at the idiocy of his brain. 

The tall, curly-haired man let out a soft snicker, “Hi? Now that’s an odd way to say sorry, don’t you think?”

“H, come on, don’t tease the poor lad. It was an accident,” His friend chimed in and Louis finally broke out of his trance and looked away from Harry’s face. 

“‘M sorry,” Louis muttered, before stepping around the two to go outside as he had originally planned. 

“Hey wait,” Harry called out and reached out to grab Louis’ arm. Louis turned his head back, his arm still in Harry’s grasp. He glanced down at Harry’s ring-covered hand and back up to his face and Harry cleared his throat before he let him go. “It’s not that serious. I’m only kidding. I’m Harry,” The taller man said, holding his hand out for Louis to shake.

“Louis,” he spoke softly, his body instantly feeling weightless under Harry’s gaze.


	2. two

“Niall! For fucks sake let’s go, we’re going to be late,” Harry called up the stairs, urging his friend to finish getting ready so they could leave and be on time for their 10 AM lecture. It was already going to take them 20 minutes to drive there, not even including the time it would take them to find a parking spot, and the clock seemed to be working faster than Harry wished. He checked his watch once more, groaning dramatically when he saw the time was 9:31. 

“Shut up!” Niall called back, “I’m coming.” His voice sounded closer with each word and Harry nearly jumped with nerves when he heard Niall’s shoes clunking against the hardwood floor. 

The blond boy appeared at the top of his staircase, his hand lazily rubbed the sleep from his baby blue eyes as he finally started down the stairs to go to their morning class.

“I don’t understand why you decided to pick such an early lecture for us,” Niall yawned and Harry rolled his eyes. 10 AM wasn’t even that early, Niall was just being dramatic. 

“Get in the car,” Harry rushed out and swung open Niall’s front door before he clambered to his car that was parked right in front of the house.

He checked his watch once more, nearly bursting at the seams when he read 9:34. Harry hated being late for things, university especially. You would have thought he’d have learned his lesson during his first year when Niall made them late more often than not. The idea of being late for something gave him anxiety unlike anything else in his life. It was awkward and uncomfortable walking into an already full lecture hall, all the eyes in the room gravitating towards him. The feeling set his soul on fire. It was one thing to be the center of attention when he wanted it, but it was completely different when he didn’t. 

Plus, Harry would never admit it to anyone, but he genuinely cared about school. He was following his father’s footsteps and pursuing a major in business so that he would hopefully be able to take over his spot in their family company. It wasn’t something Harry wanted, but it was something he had to do. Harry was to take over when his father retired, as his father had done for his grandfather, et cetera et cetera. He wasn’t going to be the one to break the chain and disappoint a great deal of Styles men. Even though the subject matter wasn’t Harry’s favorite topic, he still liked to learn. His father always said, “an educated man is much more powerful than a physically strong man.” And for some reason, it was the only piece of advice that his father gave out that wasn’t bullshit. 

Niall locked his front door behind him, moving sluggishly to Harry’s passenger seat. As soon as the blond was buckled, Harry stomped on the gas pedal, speeding down Niall’s long driveway, the clock audibly ticking in the back of his head. With Harry going faster than the given speed limit the entire way and even yelling at other drivers when they weren’t going a speed that was to his liking, they made it to their university and found a parking spot with less than six minutes to get to their lecture and find seats.  
“I could kill you,” Harry panted out as they walked into their class with en extra minute. No one paid much attention to them as they shuffled up the stairs and found a pair of seats in the second to last row. 

Not even a few moments after they rushed in so did their professor. Harry sighed in relief at the fact that they made it on time. Niall let out a quiet laugh at his friend’s obsessive behavior when it came to being punctual. Niall was the complete opposite. He had never cared too much about being on time to anything in his life. Being rushed was one of his least favorite things in the world, and it seemed to be something that Harry did to him often. 

Although Harry cared about school, Niall did not. It seemed like they were almost a perfect pair for one another, like a yin yang. Niall always got bored within the first couple minutes of their lectures, and today seemed no different. Even though it was the first week back, and the professor was just reiterating the basics in their course, Harry was listening very intently. He used a red pen and wrote down important notes that their professor had mentioned aloud, but didn’t print them on the slides she was presenting.

Niall threw his head back in boredom, while Harry paid no attention to him. He pulled his little red pen to his mouth and absentmindedly bit the top of it, trying to cement the new information in his head. The class was only an elective and it wasn’t detrimental to his overall major, but Harry still enjoyed learning new things, no matter how small. He was an encyclopedia of fun facts and other random shit that the general population didn’t seem to care about, but that was okay with him. An educated man… 

Niall leaned over to look at Harry’s notebook, scoffing at his color coded notes and annotations. He smirked to himself and clicked his pen, one that had been used scarcely throughout the entire lecture, and brought it to Harry’s notebook page. Too lost in the lecture, Harry didn’t notice Niall moving until his pen had come across the page, a fresh black line crossing through Harry’s perfect notes. He turned his head sharply and gaped at Niall, who was giggling softly to himself. 

“What the fuck, Niall,” Harry grit out in a low voice, trying not to bring attention to himself. Niall just gave him a smug smile and crossed his arms over his chest, pleased with his handiwork. Harry clicked his own pen and retaliated, scribbling across Niall’s page. Harry smirked at Niall, his turn to be pleased, while Niall just tried not to laugh out loud in the low murmur of the lecture hall.

“Harold, I can’t believe you did that to my poor notes,” Niall snickered and Harry frowned, looking back down to his own notebook. He took pride in the way he took notes during his lectures, and now because of Niall’s immature self, he was going to have to re-do the entire page. 

The blond one reached over once more and this time drew a dick on Harry’s page, and Harry struck back once more. The two of them were basically wrestling at this point, both of them trying to ruin the other’s notebook, while also defending their own. They were beginning to garner some attention from the few surrounding seats, the other students just giving them side-eyes and dirty looks, but not bothering to say anything. 

“Niall, seriously,” Harry growled, “Cut it out, you’re being annoying.” 

“I’m bored, Harry,” He whined in response, continuing to bug his curly-headed friend. 

Harry sat stoically and just watched as Niall scribbled more obscenities in the pages of his notebook. He gave up trying to fight him off, if Niall was that bored, Harry reacting to it would only fuel his desire to be annoying. 

“Do you want to go to the club later and play some golf,” Niall asked, purposely trying to push Harry’s buttons. “I mean it’s been a week since we played last. I figured you’d be rearing for a rematch, especially after I beat you so badly.”

“Niall, shut up and pay attention,” Harry whispered forcefully, ignoring Niall’s attempts to get under his skin. Niall had one more trick up his sleeve and he reached between the two of them before aggressively poking Harry’s side causing the young man to yelp out and accidentally kick the seat in front of him. A few heads turned to look at where the noise came from and Harry put his head down in embarrassment. 

“You’re so fucking annoying today. I swear I’ll leave you here and drive home alone.” 

The boy in front of them turned around, after Harry had kicked the back of his seat, finally having enough of the two bickering back and forth. “Can you two fuck off or pay attention,” he spat out and Harry looked up from his arm he had been burying himself in. 

“Louis?” Harry asked, his eyes taking in the brunette boy before him. He trailed his eyes over the short scruff that appeared on his face, and followed the subtle swirl of the fringe that splayed across Louis’ forehead. When Harry’s eyes met Louis’ once again, he didn’t see the same uncomfortable look in them, instead he just saw anger swirling around them.

“Yes, now shut the fuck up for god’s sake. Some of us actually care about getting an education. We can’t all live off of daddy’s money for the rest of our lives,” He spat before turning back around. Harry and Niall were stunned at the outburst, looking back and forth at each other and then Louis, like children who were just scolded.


	3. three

“Gems, you’re going to have to do better than that if you want to beat me,” Harry laughed, swinging his tennis racquet around after scoring, yet again, against Gemma. 

“Score’s 30 to love,” Niall chimed in, sitting on the outside of the chain-link fence that lined the court. He sat in his own fold up chair, forced to keep score of the Styles siblings’ weekly tennis match. Gemma always boasted to her friends about how great she was at playing, but it all seemed like a rumor whenever she stepped into the tennis court with her younger brother. “Come on, kick his ass Gemma. Take his ego down a notch for the greater good of the rest of the world.” 

Gemma huffed out a breath, blowing away the stray hairs that fell from her high ponytail into her face. She hated losing to her brother. He was the only other person who played as well as her, maybe even better, out of all the other members at their club. They had been playing an advantage set per usual, and out of the six games needed to win, Harry had already won five, and Gemma two. If he won their current game, he’d win the entire set, and Gemma was trying her best to prevent that. Harry’s ego was already large enough and she wanted no part in inflating it even further. 

“I’m trying, Niall,” she insisted, gripping her racquet tighter as she waited for Harry to serve. 

Harry took a few steps back until he was behind the baseline of the court and tossed the ball into the air. He swung and sent the ball into the service box diagonal from him and watched as Gemma scrambled to hit it before it bounced again. She succeeded and sent the ball back over to Harry who volleyed it over easily. The two played fervently, sweat dripped down this foreheads, and both too competitive to make a slip up to cost them this point. 

Harry looked past Gemma for no less than a second and caught a glimpse of Louis walking out of the back door from the kitchen for his smoke break. He looked away from his game for a moment too long and watched as the ball made its way to his side and bounced out of his reach and then bounced once more, solidifying Gemma’s point. 

“Ha!” she cheered, satisfied with her abilities. 

“And Gems is on the board,” Niall called out cupping his hands around his mouth to carry his voice out further. “30 to 15, let’s go Gemma!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be my best friend,” Harry scowled fixing the bandana that held back his tsunami of rich dark curls.

“I am, Haz. But you can be such a sore winner sometimes. It’s nice to humble you,” Niall joked, ushering for the two of them to continue their game. 

Harry looked up again to see Louis staring at him intently, the light breeze from the September air blowing his fringe about. Louis reached underneath his shirt and ducked his head inside with a cigarette between his lips. He lit the cigarette underneath his shirt to avoid the breeze, and lifted his head back up, finding Harry’s eyes once again. The motion sent a wave of heat throughout Harry’s body, yet goosebumps rose on his skin. Harry stared shamelessly and pulled his lower lip in between his teeth, while cocking his head to get a better view, wondering how someone could make smoking attractive. And for some reason, the way the smoke billowed out of Louis’ mouth made him that much more alluring to Harry. 

“Hello,” Gemma called out while waving her racquet in front of Harry’s face. “Earth to Harry.” He shook his head to free his thoughts of the image of Louis and his cancer sticks, bringing himself back to the task at hand.

With Louis watching him, he felt more pressure to win, even though he wouldn’t gain anything from it, other than his own satisfaction. “Okay, I’m ready.” 

Gemma smiled and threw the small yellow ball into the air and struck, sending it onto Harry’s side. He sent the ball over and the two went back and forth for a minute before Harry made a shot too far left for Gemma to reach with a forehand shot. Harry knew she was awful with her backhands and he used it to his advantage. He smirked when Gemma attempted her backhand and sent the ball into the net before it bounced pathetically on her side. 

“Harry!” she whined. “That’s not fair. You know I’m shit at backhands.”

“All is fair in love and war, big sister,” He said with a shrug and looked up to see Louis still watching with an impressed look on his face. 

“40 to 15, one more point and Harry wins the set,” Niall piped in and Gemma glared at him. 

“Yeah, we know. Thank you, Niall,” Gemma pouted and went back to her receiving position. 

“Alright let’s finish this, I have someon- I mean something I gotta do,” Harry spoke, as he looked past Gemma and saw Louis walking back into the kitchen. 

Harry finished the game, like he said he would, and won the set against his sister. She groaned in annoyance, since Harry had just won for the fifth week in a row, and starting serving angrily into the fence. Niall said he was going to grab a beer and Harry said he would meet him in there in a few, once he showered and changed. 

Harry ran into the side door of the dining room and looked around for Louis. He spotted his wild fringe turn the corner towards some old storage rooms for restaurant supplies. He had wanted to talk to Louis ever since his outburst in their class a few days ago. He didn’t like to be painted in a way that made him seem like an arrogant son of a bitch. He was more humble than people realized, but his father’s attitude outshone his, which was just a side effect of the Styles name. 

“Hey, wait up,” Harry voiced as he tried to catch Louis’ attention. The older boy turned around confused and raised his brow once he was face to face with Harry. 

“Um, yeah?” Louis said, confused as to why Harry was approaching him. 

Harry awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, his body alive with nerves. He had no idea why he was feeling this way when he was around Louis. They had only spoken to each other twice, and yet Harry felt so tongue-tied once those intoxicatingly fierce saxe eyes met his. 

“Yeah I just wanted to ask about your little blow up the other day in our lecture.” Harry started sweating. More than he had while playing tennis with Gemma. This boy made him so nervous and he had trouble pinpointing exactly why. 

“What about it, mate?” Louis asked amused. He noticed Harry fumbling over his words and the way he awkwardly scratched at the back of his neck, and he knew exactly why. 

“I just wanted to... um... apologize I guess,” Harry murmured, scrunching his nose when Louis looked up at him. 

“You guess?” Louis laughed. “Doesn’t seem very genuine if you ask me.” 

“Sorry,” the taller boy murmured and ran a hand through his damp curls. “I-”

“What are you even doing, Harry? Like I don’t understand what you’re trying to get from this half-assed, out of the blue apology.” Louis wiped his fringe from his eyes, mirroring Harry fixing his own hair, and cocked his head at him, confused. 

“I dunno,” he sighed and threw his hands up in the air exasperated. “I was trying to do the decent thing and say sorry for pissing you off. Didn’t realize I was going to be interrogated for it.” 

Louis just laughed in his face. “M’not interrogating you, you idiot. Do I look like a cop to you?”

Harry narrowed his eyes at the shorter boy, lowering his head closer to Louis’. “Well then, what would you like to call questioning me excessively over nothing? Cause I would call it an interrogation.” 

“Why are we even arguing about this? I don’t care for your stupid apology about you and your idiot sidekick being obnoxious during a lecture. Get over it, not everyone in the world is going to like you,” Louis huffed, tired of feeling trapped in this little hallway with Harry when he should be working. 

“It wasn’t on purpose Louis,” Harry said sincerely, his doe-eyes melting a piece of Louis soul, and he almost felt bad for what he had said the other day. Almost. 

“I don’t care what it was,” Louis admitted. “All I know is that it was fucking inconsiderate and rude, but I mean I didn’t really expect much else from someone like you.” He shrugged. 

“Someone like me?” Harry snapped, “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” His nostrils flared as he leaned closer to Louis who craned his neck up a little more to look into Harry’s stormy eyes. 

Louis rolled his eyes at Harry’s behavior, receiving much worse than him on a daily basis from other members of their country club. He placed a hand on Harry’s chest and nudged him back. “This is exactly what I was talking about, but good attempt at trying to prove me wrong, mate.” 

Harry’s anger seemed to dissipate the moment Louis hand touched his chest and he felt his heart thunder under his skin. Louis pulled his hand away and went to step around Harry. He reached an arm out and grabbed Louis’ wrist, pulling him back. “No, wait,” Harry said softly. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to piss you off. Again,” he started. “Believe it or not, I was actually paying attention. And not to be a narc or anything, but it was Niall’s fault. The prick wouldn’t leave me be, he was bored. But I am sorry, I know it was rude.”

“It doesn’t matter Harry. Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal.” Louis felt heat creep up his face and burn across his cheeks when he realized he was still in Harry’s grasp. “Why do you care so much about apologizing?”

“I don’t know, It just didn’t sit right with me. I don’t really like when people are upset with me, and you’re no exception,” He said sheepishly, a red tint spreading across his face as well. 

“Well I-” Louis began, but was cut off when another voice called out his name. “Oh shit, I have to get back to work,” he rushed out and pulled his wrist from Harry’s hand before he walked past him. He rubbed his wrist and tried to shake the warmth that splintered up his arm at Harry’s touch. 

“Oh and Harry,” Louis spoke, drawing Harry’s attention back to him with a small smile on his scruffy face. “Good game by the way.”

Louis walked away, for good that time, and Harry found himself smiling like an idiot to himself. He felt giddy all of a sudden, butterflies swarming in his stomach. Harry took a moment to collect himself before he left the small hallway where he and Louis had been talking. He seemed to have an extra bounce in his step when he headed down to the locker room, where he showered and changed, before meeting Niall for a beer in the lounge.


	4. four

Harry threw his head back onto his mattress, bouncing lightly before he settled in his messy duvet. He blew out a breath to push the curls out from his face, his stomach fluttering with anxiety. His skin felt like it was crawling along his body while he tried to bury his feelings deep into his chest. He couldn’t deny he was attracted to Louis, but he also couldn’t bring himself to admit it aloud either.

Familiar feelings of shame crept up from his toes, circling every limb, and pulling him deeper into his emotional spiral. His entire future depended on him being the perfect son, and being attracted to men was definitely not the way to win over his father’s scarce affection. His eyes glanced towards the closet in his room and he let a harsh laugh escape his lips. Oh, the irony.

Harry closed his eyes and brought his palms to them, pushing harshly, taking out his anger on himself. He couldn’t be gay. He couldn’t afford to lose everything over a boy he barely knew. His father would never approve; he would cast Harry out like a piece of garbage and never look back. The embarrassment and unwanted attention that would be brought to his family would only drive everyone further away from him if that were even possible. Harry wondered if he would have to stay hidden for the entirety of his sad excuse of a life, a life that was full of fake smiles and fake friendships - people only used one another to up their own status rather than create genuine connections with one another, it was truly pathetic - but Harry could hardly fathom the idea of not being his true self for that long. 

He was lonely, so lonely. He was always in control of his infatuations with other men, he kept his feelings and attraction a secret from every single soul, and it ate at pieces of his soul the more he was forced to hide himself away. He had only let his control slip once when he kissed a boy for the first and last time when he was 16. That boy was the only one who knew Harry didn’t actually like women, and that was one person too many. He hadn’t even told Niall, who he had been best friends with for as long as he can remember. His family was also clueless, and he hoped it would stay that way even when he was being carried in a casket to his inevitable grave.

The loneliness that came with forcing himself in the closet drove Harry mad. All he had ever wanted was someone who understood him, didn’t judge him, and loved him unconditionally. But with a family like his, there was always a price to pay. To keep his lifestyle and carry on his family’s business, his family name, Harry had to push and shove any affection towards men down his throat and deep into the pits of his darkening soul. There was a handful of times though, where his affections would claw their way up his throat in a searing burn that only furthered his distaste for who he was. 

He was typically exceptional at being strong. It was almost a game to him at this point, to ignore his attraction, and pray that maybe one day the emotional avoidance wouldn’t feel so excruciatingly heart-wrenching. Harry buried his shame and his secret in the bodies of countless women lovers, hoping that one day he wouldn’t have to think about men while he was being intimate with the furthest thing from what he desired. He “dated” girls to prevent suspicion, but they never lasted longer than a month or two. And frankly, Harry was so tired. Tired of the lies, tired of pretending, and extremely tired of being and feeling alone. He had to be strong though, if not for himself then for his family’s reputation. 

But sometimes his carefully adorned facade would splinter, and his sadness and longing would leak out from him as if he were a broken faucet, begging for someone to notice him struggling to just stay above the surface. Harry was falling apart like old copper pipes, pieces of him rusting away from tears left unshed, and hollowing him out from his solitary life.

It’s not as though he wished for this life, it was just thrust upon him, and he had to adapt. If he was any other poor sap in the world, if he just had the chance to be born into any other family. What could he possibly do if he were able to be relieved of his current lifestyle and family expectations? The idea was so foreign in his mind as if he couldn’t even get close to grasping how it would feel. The sensation was just out of his reach, chains latched onto his wrists from his family name, pulling him back to his oh so familiar prison of facades. To Harry, freedom was the apple in the Garden of Eden and he was cursed to be Eve. But in his intricate scenario, a certain blue-eyed boy would be his incarnation of the serpent in the grass, whispering euphonious sugar-soaked words to him, urging him to take the fruit and savor a little bite. Just one bite. That’s all it would take, and Harry knew that the temptation of his modern-day Lucifer already had his nimble fingers reaching for the apple tree, unknowingly preparing himself to be cast out of Terrestrial Paradise. 

All he could think about was how Louis could be worth the wrath of his brooding father. Louis’ eyes danced around Harry’s brain like an itch he couldn’t reach. The sensitivity from his hyperawareness spreading and setting his body alight, the only cure being Louis’ forbidden touch. The tantalizing blue of his irises captured him as if they were a noose and he was a woman in Salem being tried for witchcraft. He knew it was dangerous to get involved, he knew it would ruin his life if anyone found out, but Harry was never really the type to shy away from something he wanted. 

There was something about him that got under Harry’s skin. He pulled Harry from his lonely corner in the dark closet of his sexuality and brought out a side of Harry no one had seen before. And although Harry’s family’s entire reputation relied on his success and how he carried himself publicly, he felt his self-control slip whenever Louis caught his eyes, and he was beginning to relish in it. 

-

“No, Z. I’m telling you, he’s definitely into men,” Louis urged, trying desperately to convince his best friend Zayn that Harry was, in fact, attracted to the same sex. 

“You’re so full of shit, Lou,” Zayn laughed, taking a drag from his cigarette. “There is no way that Mr. Playboy Styles is gay. I’m sorry it’s just not believable. If you wanna try and pull one on me, pick someone who doesn’t have their dick buried in a different bird every other week.” 

“You don’t understand, Zayn,” Louis sighed and threw his cigarette butt to the ground before crushing it under the toe of his sneakers. 

“Enlighten me then.” 

“There’s nothing specific, it’s just the way he’s acted around me,” He tried and Zayn just looked at him with an amused smile ghosting on his lips. “Like he’s in one of my lectures right?” Zayn nodded, following along to Louis’ crazy conspiracy. “Him and Niall Horan were fucking off behind me and I turned around and cussed them out, and then the next day Harry walks up to me and apologizes to me.” 

“Okay…” Zayn started, raising his brow, “I can see that as being weird, but how does that mean he likes dick up his ass?”

Louis dragged a hand down his face, frustrated his friend wasn’t agreeing with him. “He wouldn’t let me walk away, he grabbed my wrist and held me there while he tried to get me to accept his apology.” 

“Okay, again, weird. But not enough cause to assume he wants to suck you off, Lou.” 

“Why is everything about sex with you?” Louis exclaimed and threw his hands up in annoyance. 

“What can I say?” he shrugged with a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes, “I’m a simple kind of guy.” 

Louis opened his mouth to retaliate when he spotted Zayn’s manager coming over to the pair. “Zayn, I need you for a caddy for these two in a minute,” he ordered and hiked his thumb over his shoulder to point to two figures who seemed to be arguing with one another. One of them walked off and the other followed a moment later, trying to make amends. 

“Okay, one second,” He muttered, tossing his butt to the ground and dragging his shoe across it to put it out. 

Zayn pushed himself off of the wall he was leaning on and followed his boss, Louis on his heels. He still had a few minutes left of his break and he was determined to convince Zayn. They got up to the golf cart and Zayn grabbed the two golf bags and lifted them onto it, furrowing his brows when he realized Louis was still there.

“C’mon, Louis, give it a rest,” he sighed, “I’m gonna need some proof of your little theory before I can be convinced.”

Louis was too busy glaring at Zayn to notice Harry walking up behind him. The taller boy ghosted his hand along Louis’ arm while raising goosebumps in its wake. Louis looked up with wide eyes, and Zayn looked between them curiously. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be managing the kitchen?” Harry asked, his voice thick and raspy which sent shivers down Louis’ spine.

“Aren't you supposed to be in a lounge somewhere with the other snobs, drinking tea with your pinkies out?" Louis retorted sharply. 

“Actually sweetheart, this is my cart, and it seems like your mate is my caddy today,” he smirked with a smug look across his face while Louis choked at the nickname that slipped from Harry’s lips. 

He glanced at Zayn for help, but he just shook his head and backed away, not wanting to be involved. Harry leaned his face down, close enough to whisper in Louis’ ear. His warm breath fanned against Louis’ shoulder and he resisted the urge to convulse under him. 

“Quite a mouth you’ve got, huh?” Harry whispered menacingly, “But I think between the two of us we can put it to better use.” Louis felt his brain short circuit and his jaw went slack. Harry took a step back and glanced down at him, a sloppy crooked smile pulling at his lips. 

“Louis close your mouth, I didn’t mean right now,” Harry teased and walked away from him as he noticed Niall approaching them. 

“Ready, Haz?” the blond asked and Harry nodded before he climbed into the cart.

Zayn was behind the wheel, his eyes as wide as Louis’ after witnessing the encounter. He held his hands up and motioned for Louis to text him before he started the cart and drove off to the first hole of the golf course. 

Harry smiled to himself in the backseat of the cart, the scent from Louis’ cologne imprinting itself into his memory, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest at the boldness of his interaction. The serpent was wrapping itself around him unforgivably, constricting his lungs and taking away his air, but Harry couldn’t find it in himself to care as he savored the breathlessness only Louis could provide for him.


End file.
